


The Setting Sun of Ziarah Heartwell

by Jay_Jay_Kay



Series: The Life of Ziarah Heartwell [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Tragedy, Brotherly Love, Everything is Beautiful and Everything Hurts, Families of Choice, Flashbacks, Funeral, Gen, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Bad At Titles, I'm Going to Hell, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Jace Herondale Needs A Hug, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Other, Platonic Relationships, The Author Regrets Everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-09 01:23:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10400595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jay_Jay_Kay/pseuds/Jay_Jay_Kay
Summary: During the months Jace Herondale was taken by the rogue vampire group to create more daylighters, he formed a platonic relationship with a fellow prisoner named Ziarah Heartwell. To most, she may have seemed insignificant, but to Jace, she was the only glimpse of light within complete darkness. So when she died so that he could get home to his family, he swore to tell the world the story of the girl the world lost that day.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Jace Herondale or Clary Fray, the rights to all information sourced from The Mortal Instruments belongs to Cassandra Clare. 
> 
> I do own Ziarah Heartwell, she is an original character that I have created. 
> 
> [This story has not been edited yet so forgive any errors.]
> 
> Enjoy!

         The wind whipped Jace’s hair into his eyes as he took the shaky steps towards the body wrapped in white. In front of him laid Ziarah Heartwell, a sixteen-year-old girl who had in recent months become like a younger sister to him. While kidnapped by the rogue vampire group they had found comfort in one another, singing lazy tunes to fall asleep and talking the other through torture. Jace never expected the girl to mean so much to him, he had tried to fight it, by the angel - how he tried. Yet just liked a setting sun, his platonic love for her set in. He had promised to get her out of the vampire lair; little did he know, Ziarah knew her life would end inside those rusty halls.

 

         He had failed her - or so he thought -, failed to save her from the life she had been trapped in for six years... So as he approached her body he felt a tightness in his chest. The young girl taken far too soon from this world. With all of her family dead, Jace was asked to say a few words of her memory, to show the world the broken girl with the brightest smile. So as much as it hurt, he stood, for her. He inhaled sharply as the words failed to leave his mouth. He had written out a speech about how she died quickly and was now in a safer, happier place but he knew there was little truth to what he wrote.

 

         Ziarah was meant to die quickly, stabbed straight through her small and still developing body. But instead of piercing her heart as intended, the jagged blade struck a lung. This was not the story Jace told Clary upon his return home, he couldn’t bare to tell her the saddened fate that consumed Ziarah. Jace had refused to allow her to die inside the hell they had been trapped in for the past ten months. So, ignoring the pain of his still healing wounds he carried her out so her last view would be of the rising sun. He held her hand as she took her last raspy breaths - a life was drawing to a close while the day had just begun. Every fiber of his being wanted to carry her the rest of the way to the institute, to provide her a hero’s funeral because she had made the ultimate sacrifice to spare his life. Jace was reminded of his injuries when he had tried to lift her body once more. He knew he had to leave her there…

 

         The memory of her death flashed before his saddened eyes once more, he knew what he needed to say now. He knew that the world needed to know about the girl who was taken too soon, to know the possibilities for the young life that died with her on a New York sidewalk. Jace neatly folded the paper back up, sliding it into the pocket of his white jacket. His eyes easily found Clary in the crowd - as he always had - he watched her for a moment as she soothed their newborn son. With one final deep breath, he forced the words out.

 

         “Ziarah Heartwell was a beautiful, brilliant, and talented young lady. Her smile could light up the darkest room, from her smile alone you could tell she was someone who had lived a thousand years in only sixteen. While many would think I had helped her through our experiences in the warehouse, they would only be half correct. This...this young girl also helped me through the pain and the torment, she was able to soothe a broken soul in a way that most adults can’t even. She deserved the world, but she received nothing but pain, her family dead and her, lost to the world inside of a cell. Yet, in spite of all the pain she had received she still managed to hold hope. The words she spoke echo in my head every day…’within weakness you will find your strength and within your pain, you will find the will to survive’.”

 

         Jace’s eyes fell onto Clary once again as she sent him a reassuring smile, one that urged him to finish. He looked down at the stiff body once more as he ran a shaky hand through his hair.

 

         “Over the ten months that I was held captive, Ziarah became something of a little sister to me. Her cries at night echoed the ones that I could not shed, the blood she bled mixed with mine on the floor. Our lives were so different, the age gap alone was enough to completely separate us; I felt responsible for this girl. That it was my job to make it possible for her to finally live for the first time since she was ten years old. It was my job to free her to grasp the opportunities that laid so eagerly in front of her. I failed this job on May 5th, 2017 - on May 5th the world lost an angel that walked among men. It lost a light that shined brighter than a million witch lights could even touch. On May 5th, 2017, Ziarah Heartwell took her final breath. I cannot stop myself from imagining the life she could have had - the life she should have had. The milestones that she never made, the goals she was never able to meet, the mistakes she was never able to grow from. While many may say she was just a small tick mark among the billions, if there was one thing that Ziarah taught me it was that a battle is not only won by the one who takes the final blow. A battle is won by an army, the accumulation of small tick marks that made the sacrifice that others could not. Ziarah was not the first life taken by the war we all feel brewing in our bones, and she will sadly not be the last. I have no absolutes to give you, no consoling words of hope and a better afterlife for those who pass on. Even I don’t know what waits beyond this life but I would like to believe she was reunited with her family. These hopes offer me no guarantees though. The only thing I know for sure is that the world burns a little dimmer without her… Her battle was hard and long fought but her fight is over. Rest now, little sister.”

 

         Jace closed his eyes tightly, struggling to maintain his composure, “You will not be forgotten. _Ave Atque Vale, Ziarah Heartwell._ ” With that Jace watched her small body burn and turn to ash, floating off into the darkening Idris sky.

  
_Just as quickly as it had risen, the sun was setting on the life of Ziarah Heartwell._


End file.
